Fever
by jibber59
Summary: Not the trip home they had expected, but then it rarely is. Old West saga, taking place fairly early in the series. Lots of angst.
1. Chapter 1

Ezra edged his horse a few feet further away as Chris let loose with another round of heavy coughing.

"Really Mr. Larabee. If you are feeling that poorly, you should have refrained from participation in this excursion."

"Wasn't feeling bad when we left Four Corners Ezra, and I wasn't about to stick around River's End feeling like this. Think it was the damned town that made me sick."

There was merit to the suggestion, simply based on the fact Ezra could not recall seeing a more unhygienic town in all his travels, which was a frightening consideration. "While I have no doubts there are myriad of illness in that Godforsaken pimple of a town waiting to attack unsuspecting victims, I do not believe a cold the severity of the one you are currently suffering from could have developed in such a short time."

"Well, I just hope the Tyson brothers get sick as well. Ain't right that the lawmen suffer, and the prisoners don't."

"Lawman Mr. Larabee. I am not suffering, at least not from your ailment, nor to I intend to. With that in mind, I hope you will not be offended if I choose to ride ahead a short distan-"

Knowing the reaction he would get Chris nevertheless went with the practical response. "Nope – stick close. There've been bandits in the area, and I am in no shape to be rescuing you."

As difficult as it was to resist, Ezra did not rise to the bait. A mild huff was his only response, as he guided Chaucer a few yards further away. They rode in silence for the next few miles, punctuated only by small fits of coughing along the way. Chris began to turn Pony to the east when they crested a hill, but Ezra reined to a stop.

"Mr. Larabee, while I am loathe to suggest a delay in returning to the comfort of our own familiar surroundings, I do believe that a rest is in order. We have not even been travelling for three hours this morning and the exercise has exhausted you. If you return home in your current condition, or more likely in a deteriorated one, you shall be subjected to the overwhelming ministrations of Mr. Jackson, and I shall feel his wrath for allowing you to travel. Additionally, any fool can see the weather is likely about to turn on us and attempting to return home in the midst of a downpour is ill-advised under ideal circumstances. I suggest that the rest of the day and the evening be spent in Harlow's Peak, providing you the opportunity to perhaps be past the worst of this by the time you – we – are forced to confront our well-intentioned healer."

Chris turned to focus his tired attention on the gambler. He scrutinized him for a moment, trying to determine what ulterior motive was there. Beyond the fact Ezra hated to spend a full day in the saddle, even when it was custom made for him, Chris could see no particular gain for Standish in the offer. It was a decent sized community, but rather boring by the standards of the area. Off the path of most travellers, there wasn't even a saloon that was worthy of the name. The last time he had passed through, the diner had three bottles of whiskey to choose from, with a town enforced two drink maximum. Gambling was forbidden, thus severely limiting Ezra's interest in the town. It was just possible that this time, there was no hidden agenda. And, truth be told, the idea of flopping down on a soft bed – any bed – and sleeping for 12 hours was enormously appealing right about now.

"Suppose it's not the worst idea you've had."

"I am truly moved by your display of gratitude for my consideration and concern." Ezra nudged Chaucer west, toward the town that lay a few minutes ride away.

The streets were empty and far more quiet than they should have been. Shops were closed and there was little evidence to be seen proving this wasn't a ghost town. Both men were automatically on alert, guns drawn and senses in overdrive. Which was why when a door opened, they both spun and pointed their weapons, much to the shock of the young woman stepping out.

"Oh dear Lord above! What are you doing here?"

Chris lowered his gun but kept it at the ready. He checked to confirm Ezra was doing the same and was a bit surprised to see him staring intently at the petite brunette. An instant later he seemed to snap back to the present and turned his head to scan the area.

"Sorry to startle you ma'am."

"Miss." Ezra hissed at him.

"Uh, Miss." Chris corrected himself, much to the amusement of the woman in question. "We were hoping to get a place to stay for the night."

She chewed on her lip a moment before speaking. "I really wish you hadn't done that." She took a few steps out before tossing the bucket of water she had around the corner of the building. "This isn't a good place to be right now."

"Something wrong?" Chris gripped his gun a bit tighter.

"Yes, but nothing that can be solved with that." She pointed at the gun, and he relaxed.

Ezra tipped his hat to her. "It does appear to be inordinately subdued Miss…?"

"Preston. Jeanie Preston. And you gentlemen would be?"

"Ezra P. Standish, at your service my dear. And this scowling specimen is Chris Larabee. Forgive him his lack of decorum, but he is feeling less that ideal at the moment."

Her smile disappeared as concern overtook her. "Oh not, not you too? Fever, vomiting, pains and cramping?"

Chris looked at her with mild panic setting in. "Uh, no. Just coughing and such. It's nothing. Ezra here just didn't think we should keep riding, but maybe under the circumstances…"

"I'm afraid you can't leave gentlemen." An older man walked out of the same building. "We have a bit of a problem here in town, and I don't think we want it going any further."

"Mr. Standish. Mr. Larabee. This is Doctor Windom. And he's quite right. We have some kind of sickness here in town, and you've put yourselves right in the middle of it."

Ezra dismounted first, draping Chaucer's reins over the railing with a stern gaze admonishing him to remain in place. He moved to help Chris down, but was waved off impatiently. Having watched the man ride for the last few hours, he nevertheless stood close, unconvinced of the gunslinger's ability to remain on his feet. The walk to the benches in front of the hotel was unsteady, but Chris did manage to get there without embarrassing himself. Ezra took both horses and looked around for the livery.

"If you need to stable them, I can show you where to go."

"What charming company for a mundane task. Please Miss Preston, lead the way."

After watching them leave, Chris turned to the doctor. "So, what's happening here?"

"I wish I could tell you. We've had people sick for several days now. Sick and some dying - fast. No idea of what started it, or what to do about it."

"You can't diagnosis this thing?" That was a bad omen.

Windom looked away before answering. "I'm afraid Doctor is more an honourary title than a fact. Been taking care of folks in these parts since I came out here 15 years ago. All I've ever really done is read about it, but up until now, that's been enough."

Given the fact those credentials weren't much different from the ones their own healer could offer, Chris didn't feel he was in a position to comment.

"I can tell you this – it's more than just a bad influenza outbreak. Symptoms are wrong for that. I'd like to let you head out, but it wouldn't be right."

Something else he couldn't argue with. He stood up to offer his assistance and came perilously close to ending up on his face. "I don't think I'm gonna be much help Doc."

"No, I wouldn't think so. I'm going to settle you down in my place. Everyone who is sick is in the hotel, the church or schoolhouse. Be best if you kept your distance from them. They don't need what you've got, and you sure don't need what they do. Be best to keep your friend away from them as well."

Chris offered a wry smile as the two walked slowly up the street. "That shouldn't be an issue. Ezra is not exactly partial to spending time helping sick folks. Or most other folks for that matter. I'm sure he'll stay out of your way." The more he thought about that, the more troublesome the idea became. "On the other hand, it might be a good idea if you could find a way to keep him busy. Idle hands and all." The truth was, Chris was quickly having concerns that Ezra was not going to want to stick around when he found out how bad things were. He hadn't even wanted to be close to Chris with a cold, so something that was killing people was bound to get him on his horse and out of town as fast as he could handle. They were going to have to have a good talk on the matter to make sure Ezra knew the consequences of running out.

They made it to the door and inside. Chris looked longingly at the chair and didn't dare let his thoughts drift to the bed that was promised. There were still a few matters to be discussed before he allowed himself the relief that would offer.

"Doc, you need to get word out to make sure no one else rides into town." Chris was having trouble standing but needed to assert himself as much as possible, which was kind of hard to do flat on his back.

"I agree, but the only person in town at the moment who knows how to operate the wire is too sick to stand up. And we can't let anyone leave until we know what we are dealing with."

Spreading this thing around, whatever it was, was the last thing they needed. An epidemic in a small town was one thing but letting it loose to the territory had terrifying consequences. Surrendering to the weakness he was feeling, Chris dropped into the closest chair.

Ezra spoke from the doorway. "The Stagecoach is due by to pass by here late afternoon, is it not?"

"Yes, but it doesn't come down into town unless we post notice for a pick-up."

"However he will stop to read what the notice is requesting."

Chris nodded slowly. "I see what you're thinking. We post notice telling the driver to notify the neighbouring towns about what's going on. That should keep folks clear. He can take word to Four Corners as well. Some of my men can come and post watch out of town."

Doc Windom was nodding. "Yes, that should work. If I send information about our situation, perhaps another doctor can be consulted to help figure out what this is, and if there is more that I can be doing. I am afraid my skills are not up to this."

"Good. Write up your note, I'll write mine."

"And I shall ride out to post the notice."

"The hell you will." Chris rose as he shouted without realizing it; he was to busy trying to ignore the spinning sensation while leaning on the seat to remain upright. "That's one hell of a way to try to sneak out of town Standish. Getting my permission to run out this time?"

"As I am of little use in ministering to the ill and Miss Preston has informed me that I will be forbidden by the good doctor from entering any sick rooms, there is precious little else for me to do. This is a mission that will not tax my apparently limited and less than useful skills."

"You mean a job that will let you get away from all of this. Not letting you do it." Chris sat again, and Ezra grinned widely but with no humour.

"I tremble at the thought of your retaliation Mr. Larabee. You can't remain vertical long enough to chastise me, so I seriously doubt you would be able to stop me. I advise you not waste your limited energy in making the effort."

Reflex action had Chris reaching for his weapon as a threat. Ezra's grin disappeared.

"That is the value I have to you? Shooting me would be nothing more than a thoughtless action, clearly with no regret. I grant you I cannot provide the aid that Mr. Jackson does, nor the solace that would be provided by Mr. Sanchez. And no doubt Misters Wilmington and Tanner would be of far more moral support at such a time…"

His head was pounding too much to deal with this. "What's your point Ezra?"

"Although I have presumed to believe I have much to offer the others can't, it no longer seems to be of any value to you. You have more than once depended on my gift for chicanery, obfuscation and duplicity in the last few months. Obviously, you have determined those are the only benefits I can offer to our ensemble. And I am in no position to dispute the claim and would not be taken seriously if I tried. You may, at this point, put aside those concerns. Even I am not selfish enough to risk a territorial epidemic, no matter how low an opinion you may have of me. I will post the information and return, avoiding all human contact in the effort. And in order to ensure I do not contaminate Four Corners, or anything else you hold dear, I promise you when this is over, if we survive whatever this is, I shall ride off in the opposite direction. It is apparent there is nothing for me to go back for. Doctor, when the notes are prepared, you will find me waiting at the livery. You should act promptly." Ezra left quickly.

Chris lowered his head to the table, too tired to process the discussion. He looked up only when he felt a pen being put in his hand, and saw paper was there as well.

"Don't know what kind of history you two have, and it's none of my business. But he's right about one thing. We need to do this now if we want it seen today."

Without even trying, Chris dropped the tool. "You write – I'll tell you what."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_


	2. Chapter 2

Darkness was beginning to settle by the time Ezra returned. He had waited, a good distance back, to ensure that the message was seen and picked up. The driver read the sheet addressed to him and looked down toward the town. Seeing he was being watched, he waved an acknowledgement before climbing back on the coach and moving on. Ezra sighed with relief. At least that part had worked. He turned and walked back to where Chaucer grazed, taking his time. There was no rush.

What good would come of this effort remained to be seen. He couldn't imagine what might be done to help, but then he had no idea what was wrong. All he knew is that eight people had died so far, and he expected there would be more. He wasn't worried about Chris. He tried to tell himself that was because he simply didn't care at this point if the man lived or died but knew that wasn't true. But his illness had nothing to do with whatever was ravaging this town. He'd been sick before they got there, and this outbreak was well established before they were even in the area. And there wasn't a cold or influenza virus out there that was stronger and more stubborn than Larabee – he was certain of that.

The rest of the town was another matter. From what Miss Preston had told him, every time they thought things were under control, someone else fell ill. There was no pattern to the victims, and other than the tight community, there was little common ground. Most were locals, but two of the first fatalities had been new arrivals, planning to homestead. Some were from the farms in the area, but most were townsfolk. Ages ranged from very young to the elderly. This plague showed no preferential treatment.

The minimal activity there had been in town during the day was silenced by nightfall. Most of those helping the ill had returned to there own homes, no doubt praying they hadn't contracted anything. Lights burning low in the makeshift care wards were the only signs of life to be seen.

The trough in front of the stables was full after the previous days rain even though today's clouds had remained quiet, so Ezra scooped a bucket from there for Chaucer, hoping the horse wouldn't be too finicky about eating and drinking. "I know this is not your usual fare my friend, but beggars cannot be choosers, and this town does not offer a wide range of options. You shall have an extra serving of Tiny's mash when…" he paused. There would be no more of that special treat. "Well, I shall find some way to recompense you for the hardships you must endure. No doubt there will be several more days of hay and rainwater in your future."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

Ezra turned suddenly, the instinct to draw his weapon tamped down as he registered the young woman's voice.

"Miss Preston, it is ill advised to approach quietly from behind when you are dealing with a man who cannot be trusted."

"Nonsense. Who would ever say such a thing about you?"

"Anyone who has ever met me. And while I appreciate your discretion, I have no doubt you heard much if not all of my discussion with Mr. Larabee. You were not that far from the door at the time."

Ezra couldn't stop himself from smiling at the faint blush that came to her cheeks. "I did not intend to eavesdrop I assure you sir. As for his comments, I am certain they are the result of the fever he has."

"Your charm and grace are a match for your beauty my dear. Would that I could acknowledge a truth to your statement, but the sad reality is that Mr. Larabee has the support of the facts on his side in this case. But this is not a matter you need concern yourself with. Now, I may be of little assistance in caring for the people of this town, but perhaps I can offer other aid and comfort to the caregivers. While my culinary skills do not match those of the finest restaurants in Atlanta, and I am sorely out of practice, I daresay I can recall enough of the ways of a chef to provide some form of repast for yourself and the others who have been tending to the sick. If you could point me in the direction of the nearest kitchen?"

She smiled and took his offered arm. "I doubt there is much more than the fixings for a few sandwiches but come with me to the diner and I will set you up Mr. Standish."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Jeanie was up at first light, making her way down the quiet street toward the hotel. She stopped in front of the church to offer a quick prayer that all those inside that and the other buildings had survived and that no one else had joined them. The town had suffered enough. Scarcely a family remained untouched by this scourge, and some had been devastated. Help for the ill was hard to come by as well. Understandably, most people wanted to remain with their families to care for them. And if by fortune or fate they remained untouched, there was little incentive to risk exposure.

She wished, not for the first time, that she had a better understanding on matters of health and care. She had thought as a child growing up in an orphanage that the life of a nurse would be the perfect choice for her. Little did she know that her circumstance would never permit her the education needed for such a role, and by the time that realization dawned, she was so emotionally committed to the dream that she settled for any job in a hospital she could find. Training as a nurse's helper did not give her the skills she needed now. The town was paying the price for having two well-meaning but woefully unqualified amateurs as their medical guardians. If there was a town left when this was over, she was sure changes would be made.

Pushing such thoughts aside, she made her way up the stairs to the hotel, wondering who, if anyone, would be there to help today. Mrs. Hudson ran the establishment, and luckily had not fallen ill, but she was not a young woman. She watched over the patients during the night but handed that responsibility back as quickly as possible each day, disappearing into her own quarters, no doubt sipping on her gin - the worst kept secret in town. Jeanie was preparing herself for another exhausting 18 hours, starting with changing the sheets and trying to get some water or broth into anyone strong enough to take it. It was no small wonder that she almost stumbled over the bundle of laundry piled next to the door when she walked in. Even more surprising was the soft southern voice coming from the other room.

"Master Jonathan, we had an arrangement. I would show you the card trick and in return you would take at least a half bowl of this delightful broth. Now, as I have fulfilled my end of the agreement you are required to do the same."

"But I want to see it again so I can figure how you did it." The young boy's voice was weak, but he spoke with determination.

"Ah, that is an entirely different matter. Lessons will come at a higher cost. For those, I must insist you have a full bowl, along with similar intake later today. Then, if you are strong enough by evening, I shall share that particular secret with you, but only if you solemnly promise to never tell anyone else."

She peaked around the corner in time to see the youngster nodding his head as he reached for the spoon with a trembling hand. Ezra looked up to see they were being watched and leaned back slightly to be out of the direct line of sight before offering a wink to the observer. She smiled and pulled back so as not to interrupt the moment. A few minutes later, Ezra joined her in the lobby.

"My apologies Miss Preston. I had intended to have those sheets out of the way before your arrival but was distracted by a very insistent young man."

"I thought Doc Windom told you to stay away from the sick rooms. Don't need anyone else getting whatever this is." She tried to sound severe, but she was so grateful for the help it was hard to be convincing. And the southern charm and hypnotic green eyes didn't do anything to strengthen her resolve.

"I suppose I should apologize again in that case. My intention is decidedly not to cause further difficulties, I assure you. Mrs. Hudson came by the doctor's home to indicate she was simply to exhausted to take care of the bedding changes that were needed, and as I had no other plans for the moment, I presumed you might appreciate the assistance."

She blushed, and Ezra felt his own knees weaken slightly. "Now it is I who should apologize to you. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful and am in fact deeply indebted to you for your help. I just would hate to see you get sick."

"We Standishs are made of stern stock, I assure you. If I can survive my travels with Mr. Larabee, I can promise you this annoying incapacitation shall not prove to be my downfall."

Jeanie smoothed non-existent wrinkles from her skirt as she fidgeted with unexpected awkwardness. "Oh yes – how is your friend?"

"Well, I might question the designation, but he seems to be doing as expected. He was restless due to the repeated coughing, and is feverish, but not to a degree that need cause anyone concern. I imagine he will sleep for most of the day if not longer, if we are all blessed with good fortune. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall take these things out to be laundered." He bundled the items all into one sheet and gathered the corners together, aware of the fact his every move was being monitored and feeling surprisingly self-conscious at the thought. Approaching the door, he registered the flaw in his plan and turned back to see her smiling at him. She knew what he was about to ask. "Is there an establishment in town who can perform the task, or should I locate the nearest rock and stream?"

He was thrilled to earn a small laugh with his poor joke. "There is a laundress up the street and to your right." She pointed as she spoke. "But she is one of the patients at the church. Just leave the items there if you would, and I will get to them later."

"You have enough on your agenda for the day, I am sure. I cannot promise my skills are up to the task, but I will make the effort to freshen these for you." He hesitated when he saw the hint of sparkle in her eye, realizing what he was offering. "I can presume there are sheets from the other locations as well?"

"And towels." It was only fair to give him a chance to take back the offer. After all, he was technically a guest in town, and from the way he looked, he had already been up most of the night. And then there was the issue of being concerned about his friend. Yet with all of that, he was still somehow managing to favour her with that charming smile as he offered to wash soiled sheets. She shook her head slightly to stop her mind from wandering. "Really Mr. Standish, it is not necessary."

"A Standish does not renege on a promise made." Not entirely true, but there was no need for her to know that. "I cannot guarantee perfection but will make a valiant effort."

It wasn't difficult to find the laundry but keeping himself from feeling frustration at the work ahead of him once inside was another matter. The fire had gone out in the massive stove, so that was the first step in the process. A few minutes later he had large vats of water heating as he sorted out what needed to be washed. Hoping to get the task underway quickly, he found the least soiled sheets and set them into the first vat to have something underway before going over to examine the contraption that stood in the corner. He could only assume this was the washing machine he had heard tell of, although the complexities of its operation were a mystery to him. Fortunately, the most obvious feature was also quite a simple one to figure, as he slowly turned the crank that operated the rollers. Clearly that was intended to wring water out, and the thought of how much labour that simple invention could save was an enormous relief.

Back at the stove, he churned the waters, hoping the action would be sufficient to perform the task, knowing in his heart there was scrubbing in his future. The mindlessness of the action was dangerous, as it allowed him to puzzle over why he was there. If the others were to discover what he was doing, he would most certainly never hear the end it. JD would certainly have comments to make, as would Buck. He stopped his actions as he remembered they would not be saying anything to him. That would necessitate his return to Four Corners, which was no longer an option. They wouldn't have the chance to ask him why he had stooped to such drudgery.

Which was a good thing, since he didn't think he could provide an answer. There certainly was no profit to be had. If anything, this would likely cost him, as he could envision that taking care of this, and the other tasks he had offered to assist in would likely result in damage to his wardrobe and boots. He did not have the appropriate attire with him for cleaning out stalls and digging graves – two jobs he had told Doc Windom he would undertake later in the day. At least he had set aside his jacket and a clean shirt, so he would have something to change into later in the day when he took dinner over to Miss Preston.

The thought caused Ezra to stop his actions again. What earthly difference did it make what he wore for that? It was a foolish notion, and one he tried to put out of his head and focus on the task at hand. He didn't even register he had started humming an old Stephen Foster song to himself as he worked until the lyrics came to mind - "_I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair_". Oh Lord, what was happening to him?

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**_tbc_**


	3. Chapter 3

Chris wasn't sure what day it was, but he did know it was the first time in a while that he woke up without wishing he hadn't. The sun was well past the horizon, so he knew it wasn't first light, but he didn't really care. What he did care about was trying to figure out exactly where he was. It took a few seconds for the pieces to fall into place, and when the did he sat up abruptly. The room spun, but not as much as he might have expected. When he could focus again, he looked around. There was a wash basin in the corner with a clean cloth and towel lying next to his laundered clothing. Maybe he wasn't remembering his situation correctly.

He stood slowly and made his way to the dresser, looking with displeasure at his reflection. That was easily a two-day growth of beard staring back at him. He wasn't totally surprised to see his shaving gear laid out next to the basin but didn't think he was quite steady enough to risk putting blade to face just yet. Maybe after some coffee.

Ten minutes later he was washed and presentable enough to risk leaving the room. He moved slowly, not fully certain of his abilities yet. The table and chair didn't seem to far off and he confidently let go of the wall to cross the room. Ezra's voice startled him enough to set him off balance, but he found his footing.

"You may want to consider a trip to the bath house if you are feeling remotely sure of yourself. Fever can have unpleasant lingering after-effects."

"How long have I been out of things?" he asked as he sat. His voice sounded rough even to his ears.

"This morning along with the past two days, plus the better part of the day we arrived. Apparently, I was inaccurate in my assumption that no virus would dare take you on. It put up an impressive fight." He put a cup on the table. "I doubt you should be partaking of this, and no doubt Mr. Jackson would not approve, but as he is not here, I shall not risk incurring your wrath any further by refusing."

Chris looked up in confusion. What had he done to make Ezra say something like that? He was about to ask when the door opened, and a very tired Doc Windom entered.

"Mr. Standish, if you have a moment – oh, Mr. Larabee. Good to see you feeling well enough to be up."

"I think I feel better than you do Doc. You look ready to fall flat."

Nodding, the older man took the other chair. "Won't deny I could use some rest but then I'm not the only one."

"You were about to ask something of me?"

"I was? Oh, right. Jeanie could use some clean bedding over at the church if you've got a minute."

Ezra wiped his hands off. "The last wash should be dry by now. I will collect it and deliver it immediately, along with some lunch for her. You should lie down and rest for a while."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you." Ezra smiled his response and headed out without saying anything else.

After a few moments of trying to process what he had heard, Chris finally surrendered. "Do I still have a fever, or were you saying Ezra has been doing laundry?"

"Probably about 8 or 9 loads per day. And that does not begin to cover his activities. Keeping us fed as well. And tending to the horses and stalls. Hauling water as well for the last day. Sadly, he's had to dig a couple more graves as well, although I'm daring to hope those were the last."

"Ezra? Standish? The fellow that just left here – he's been doing all of that?"

Windom smiled. "And disobeying my orders, keeping an eye on the sick. That includes you. Joking with the kids and trying to keep them from being so scared. He's got quite a way with them."

Chris leaned back in the chair, staring in astonishment. "I don't believe it."

"Well, you should. His assistance has been invaluable."

Sipping at his coffee in the hope it would clear away the cobwebs, Chris said nothing for a minute or two. "Ezra Standish was doing laundry?"

Doc grinned. "Won't say it is a career he has any future in, but he's been getting the job done, and right now that is all that I care about. He's been doing a lot around here to try to keep things running with some kind of normalcy. That is when he's not staring at our Jeanie as if she might just be an angel from above – which isn't out of the question."

That was an unexpected turn in the conversation. "OK, now I know we are talking about different people. Your telling me Ezra is – what – in love with her?"

"Well, I'm not certain that is the right word, but there is certainly an infatuation there. Dare say it goes both ways."

"Sorry Doc, but you must be reading that wrong. I'm sure she's a lovely girl, but from what I remember, not really his type."

Doc stood up and poured a coffee for himself before responding. "And just what type would your friend be interested in."

"The type that has money."

"Tell me Mr. Larabee. Why do you call this man your friend? You clearly have a very low opinion of him, yet you travel together."

"We work together. Keeping the peace in Four Corners."

"He is a lawman and associate, yet you don't like him."

Shrugging slightly, Chris thought about his answer. "Won't say I don't like him. Ezra can be – interesting to be around. Can't say that I trust him all that much though."

"That was apparent by your threat to kill him."

He almost choked on his coffee. "I did what?"

"Shortly before passing out after you got here. You tried to pull your gun on him when he suggested he would leave the note for the stage to send help. You don't recall? And while you slept through your fever you mumbled more concerns on a similar theme."

It was coming back to him now. "Didn't want to him to run out again."

"Again? Never mind. I don't need to know history. Prefer to judge a man for myself on what I see. And what I've seen is someone who has run himself ragged helping us out. And taking care of you in the deal as well."

"Sounds to me like he's trying to impress your Miss Preston."

"Why? As you said, she has no money. Certainly no position in town that the scoundrel you describe would be interested in. And while she is a lovely young lady, she is no raving beauty who would drive a man to distraction. What possible motive can you come up with for his behaviour?"

He couldn't come up with an answer for that.

"Well Mr. Larabee, you dwell on that for a bit. Me, I'm going to take a nap for an hour or so, then get back to it. Should tell you, if you haven't figured things out by the time you're able to head home, I may take advantage of your stupidity and try to get Ezra to stay on here with us. I have a feeling it won't be too hard to convince him."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Seeing Chris Larabee sitting outside the stables was the last sight Ezra had expected when he made his way over to feed the horses there evening meal. It was also the last thing he felt like dealing with. It had been a long day, and he had hoped to settle into a chair there himself for a few minutes, but he would be damned if he was going to let that fact be known now.

"You should not be wandering the streets Mr. Larabee. You are not yet recovered, and therefore likely more susceptible to falling ill again. Or merely falling."

"I'm not pushing my limits Ezra. Don't worry about me. Or should I say you can stop worrying about me. Doc tells me you're the one who kept an eye on me."

"The others had more pressing matters. And I had no desire to incur the wrath of our – your – colleagues by allowing you to die."

"Speaking of **our **colleagues, did you hear back from them at all?"

Ezra ignored the emphasis. "Mister Tanner found his own unique method to deliver a message. There was an arrow with a note wrapped around it in the door frame yesterday morning. They made excellent time getting here."

"They?"

"Mr. Sanchez and Mr. Dunne remained in Four Corners, allowing the others to ride to our aid. Warnings have been posted on the thoroughfares into town, so we need not worry about other visitors."

"Ezra, will you please sit down for a minute. You look ready to keel over."

"The horses need to be fed."

"I took care of that. They're all seem content enough for the moment."

"In that event, there are other tasks I should attend to." Ezra turned to leave, stumbling ever so slightly at the abrupt change in direction. His hope that the moment wasn't noticed faded when he saw the look he was given.

"Not going to be of much help if you can't stand up. Please Ezra."

That caught him off guard, and his resolve weakened enough for him to capitulate. He pulled a less than solid looking chair closer and was relieved when it didn't collapse beneath him. Both men were silent, not knowing how to continue the conversation. Chris was about to start awkwardly when he noticed Ezra's attention had strayed. He followed the gaze and saw why.

Jeanie was walking quickly from the hotel toward the laundry. Neither man could see from that distance that she was casting furtive glances in their direction. Her hopes for a spare moment or two with Ezra were dashed when she saw him at the stables but had to admit it was nice to see him resting for a moment. The fact the two men were together gave her some hope that whatever problems had developed between them were being resolved. While he hadn't voiced his concerns, it was easy to tell the words spoken on that first day still bothered Ezra. Of course, the opposite side to that was if the feud was resolved, it was far less likely he'd stay in town when this was over. Not that she had any realistic expectation of that, but a girl could dream – couldn't she?

She waved Ezra to stay where he was when she saw him move to rise, calling over to him. "I can get the sheets. You take a few minutes." She was out of sight for a few moments, then was watched again as she went back down the street and disappeared again.

Chris hadn't taken his eyes from Ezra as the scene played out. Doc had been right. Ezra was smitten, and it looked like he had it bad. His gaze hadn't waivered as he watched every step. He followed her as she took a scoop of water from the well before disappearing into the laundry focusing even as he waited for her to appear again. It was only when the hotel door closed that he pulled himself back to reality and realized he was being watched. He stood, brushing dust from his pants. "As I said Mr. Larabee, there are jobs to be done. Miss Preston should not have had to go for the laundry herself."

"She would have done it anyway, since you were planning on feeding the horses. Sit yourself back down and try to have the patience to hear me out Ezra." He waited until Ezra reluctantly sat.

"I owe you an apology. Had no right to react the way I did when we got here. Sure had no right to say it with others around."

"You had no reason to think higher of me. I accept that."

"Ezra, you can vex a man like no one I have ever met. Most of the time you are, at best, difficult to deal with. You can get under my skin faster than anyone should, and you do seem to enjoy doing it. If there is an angle you can play, you find it. A game to be had, you are right there. And no man has ever been more creative at coming up with excuses for not doing his job."

"If this is your understanding of what an apology consists of, you are desperately in need of some education on the subject."

"But, when push comes to shove, you are one of a handful of people I would want at my back. When you need to step up, you do, and in ways that flat out shatter any image you put on yourself. If I'd been a bit more clearheaded, maybe I would have recognized that when you said you'd ride out. Maybe not. But I should have. Doc has been telling me what you've been doing around here, and I wanted you to know – well to know you done good Ezra. Real good. Makes me proud to be associated with you. To be your friend – if I can still claim that."

Ezra was glad he was seated, since falling over from shock would have been embarrassing. "I find myself in the rather rare circumstance of being somewhat at a loss for how to respond. I question your misplaced confidence and caution you not to count on the veracity of your statements. You appear to have more faith in my character than I do, and I warn you I know myself far better."

It was a relief to be able to chuckle slightly. "Not sure that is true anymore Ezra, but I'm don't think either one of us is up to having that discussion right now."

"No, you need to rest and complete your recovery. I will not presume to order you back to bed, but I think anything more strenuous than that might prove to be your undoing."

"Can't argue. I'll head back in a bit. Kind of enjoying the sunset for a bit now." He hesitated, not certain he wanted an answer to the question that buzzed in his mind. He'd seen the look in Ezra's eyes as he had watched Jeanie, and he knew what it meant. "Ezra, you thinking about sticking around this place? You know, once it is safe to move on."

"What power on earth would posses me to relocate to a town with no gambling, little alcohol and the excitement of a Sunday morning sermon?" He hoped his comments sounded to convincing to Chris since he had been asking himself the same question.

"I can think of a reason, and I'm betting you can too."

"Mr. Larabee, you know I only bet on sure things. As for your initial question, I never plan on 'sticking around' any place. It was not my intention to do so in Four Corners, yet there I remain. And, from your early comments, I assume I would be permitted to retract my stated intention and return."

"Not my place to say where you can or can't be, but you'd sure be welcome to stay in my opinion."

"That being the case, I believe I have some contemplating to do. Now, I must return to the responsibilities of the day. Oh, Mr. Larabee – is there any possibility that you might refrain from offering detailed reports of my activities here to the others?"

"Don't want Buck and JD to know you've become a washerwoman?" He grinned as Ezra tried to glare, but the look had just a hint of desperation behind it. "I suppose that detail might slip my mind – this one time."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**_tbc_**


	4. Chapter 4

The armchair in the lobby would not have appeared to be the most comfortable resting place he'd known, but as the clock struck midnight and Ezra settled into it, it felt almost as welcoming as his bed in Four Corners. His quick stroll though to check on everyone had relieved his mind a bit. No one seemed to be feeling worse, and most actually looked as if they were resting comfortably. He was glad Jonathan was asleep, as he was too tired himself for any more card tricks. It was too early to say this epidemic was under control, but signs were at least more promising than they had been. Knowing it wasn't exactly the right thing to be doing, Ezra nevertheless retrieved his flask from his jacket pocket and poured a small amount into a teacup he had borrowed from the diner. If anyone spotted him, at least it wouldn't be obvious he was drinking in contravention of the town laws.

He thought about those restrictions and wondered again how anyone survived with so many restraints. And why they had been put in place to begin with. The town seemed quiet enough as it was. Even without the current situation, it took little talent to recognize this was a docile spot at best. Dull would be a more apt, if less flattering, term. No doubt those laws were the reason, but why anyone would stay here was the question that followed.

He closed his eyes, resting his head back on the seat. The image that came to mind as he began to doze off answered the question he had just asked, as he pictured Jeanie strolling down the main street in better days, waving at the locals and greeting everyone she passed, her arm linked once again with his as it had been that first day. It was a warm and strangely comfortable sensation. Her smile would have brightened the worst storm, and simply sitting and talking with her seemed suddenly like the best use of his time Ezra could envision. He woke abruptly, sitting up and knocking the 'tea'cup from the arm of the chair. Dreaming about women was hardly new to him, but never in that kind of setting. Domestic bliss – the words should have made him shudder, but instead filled him with an unnatural sense of calm. That did make him just a bit nervous, and he vowed to stay awake for the rest of the night.

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Jeanie walked slowly to the hotel. It had been a restless night for her, and she found the past week had finally caught up. She was more tired than before, and her appetite was gone. Dragging herself out of bed was a challenge; one she might not have met had she not remembered who was waiting to share breakfast with her. She smiled again now at the thought, and even more so when the door opened and she saw him exit.

How did he look so elegant after sleeping in a chair all night? Or more likely not sleeping. She supposed some men were just blessed with that gift. Ezra certainly was. Her smile waivered a bit as she looked closely at him, noting the fatigue that was more apparent as she got closer, certain she looked equally done in. It surprised her a bit to realize that didn't seem to matter.

"Good morning my dear Miss Preston. Are you ready for some breakfast before taking on another day?"

"Well, some tea and toast perhaps. Was it a good night?"

He thought of the dreams he'd had with her in them before giving her the answer she was actually asking for. "I believe our patients are all improving. Were I willing to tempt the fates, I would suggest we may have passed the worst of the ordeal."

She took his arm, leaning into him more than usual. "Wonderful news, and long overdue. Shall we make our way to Doc's for our tea? We can check on your Mr. Larabee as well."

"He is hardly my Mr. Larabee - I would never want to claim ownership or responsibility for him. But, yes, we should ensure he is continuing to improve."

Ezra enjoyed the closeness for a minute before registering something was wrong. He stopped and turned her to fact him, noting for the first time the flush to her face and the trembling. As much as it would have flattered him to credit his proximity for state, he feared that wasn't the cause. "Are you feeling alright Miss Preston? You appear to be unwell."

She took a step back to prove her stamina as she tried to answer. "Nonsense, I am simply feeling fatigued after a poor sleep." Her next step was her last as she crumbled to the ground.

"Jeanie!" Ezra scooped her quickly into his arms and rushed the final yards to Doc's door, shouting as he got close. Chris was the one to pull it open, and immediately backed out of the way.

"Take her through to the bed." He hadn't needed to speak; Ezra was already in the back room, laying her down gently.

"She collapsed. It was just fainting though, right Doc?" The older man had come in on his heels, gently pushing him aside to examine her. "She is completely exhausted. The woman has had so little rest, this reaction was inevitable."

Chris gently pulled Ezra aside. "Give him a minute Ezra." He hoped the gambler was right, but knew by looking at the bed that wasn't the case. Jeanie was flushed and restless – not the state of someone overly exhausted. Ezra didn't look any to stable himself right now, and Chris tried with no success to get him to sit. His heart sank when Doc turned to look at them.

"She's mighty sick. Hit her fast and hard, probably because she was so tired. I'll get some cool cloths for her." It wasn't much, but cooling and comfort was the best they'd been able to do. Chris followed him out, looking back to see Ezra pulling a chair next to the bed. The lost and terrified look on his face cut into Chris's soul.

Once they were outside, Chris spoke quietly. "How sick is she?"

Doc shook his head. "One of the worst I've seen. She was just so damned tired. I was afraid of this but trying to get her to slow down was impossible. If we knew what was going on…"

"It wouldn't help." They turned at the sound of Nathan's voice.

"What the hell are you doing here? The idea was for you to keep folks out."

"Relax Chris. We think we've got this figured out, not that you're going to like what we've found."

He came closer to the men. "You must be Doc Windom. I'm Nathan Jackson. Fellow coming behind me is Vin Tanner."

"Where's Buck?"

"Burying a family out on a farm near by. Papers we found said the name was Tollen."

Doc closed his eyes. "All of them dead? Damn it – that's five folks."

Vin nodded as he approached. "Told you that you wouldn't like it. I was riding the area, checking on folks. Found a cow dead upstream from the house. Rotted and decaying into the creek bed."

"Decaying – not scavenged?" Chris knew what that meant, but from the look of confusion, Doc didn't.

Vin continued. "None of the other animals would come near. Whatever it was that killed the cow was enough to keep the other animals from eating at it. They could smell the rot."

"So that, and the decaying cow contaminated the water?"

"Only thing that make sense. Followed the creek down and found the Tollen family. Looks like they've been dead a few days."

Chris turned back to Doc. "Does the creek feed into the town water?"

"It might. Think it goes to the old well at the south. When folks started moving in and settling there, digging wells of their own, the creek water dried up some, so we dug a couple more wells up north end to get water from the river. Most folks don't use the other as much any more."

"Why would so many get sick then?"

"Because Mrs. Hudson uses it at the hotel. Since she sticks to her gin, she never got sick. And the Walkers use it at the diner. Anyone there would have been exposed."

Another use came to mind. "Shit. Ezra's been using it for the laundry!"

Vin stared. "Ezra has been using it for – wait. Ezra's been doing laundry?"

"Don't worry about that Chris." Nathan chose to focus on the details, leaving the image in his mind for a later date. "I assume he's been boiling it to clean things, so that shouldn't be a problem. Where is Ezra?"

"Right here." They turned to see him standing on the porch with a relieved look he didn't bother to hide. Hearing the voices had given him hope that a solution had arrived as well. "Now that we have ascertained the cause, how do we treat the stricken?"

Nathan shook his head. "Time and luck. I've got some potions that might make people get their strength back faster, but it won't fight the sickness."

His face fell and a look of desperation appeared. "There must be something." The pleading in his voice left the newcomers at a loss.

"Sorry Ezra. There's not a damn thing we can give anyone. All depends on how bad they've got it and how strong they were in the first place. With the water getting more contaminated as that animal rotted, the sickness is gonna be worse in anyone who drank from the well recently. We need to board it over to make sure no one else goes near. We should post some signs as warning as well."

Ezra wasn't listening anymore. He walked off as Nathan finished speaking, heading toward the blacksmith shop, and returning a moment later with a sledgehammer. Vin moved to intercept him, but Chris blocked the action. "Leave him."

With a strength none of them would have guessed he had Ezra swung the hammer at the well. The roof covering came down quickly, and he turned his attention to the rock structure. The first blows did little, but it wasn't long until the cracks appeared. Several stones tumbled in, making splashes barely heard above the pounding above. After a dozen more swings most of the rim was gone, but Ezra had exhausted himself, dropping to his knees, shaking uncontrollably. The hammer fell to the ground. Chris walked over slowly, nudging the tool away. He gently helped Ezra up.

"You go in and sit with her. We'll finish this. You need to be with her now Ezra."

"I don't think I can handle that. I am not as strong as you are Mr. Larabee."

"Past couple days prove otherwise. You'll handle being with her a lot better than you'd handle living with yourself if you don't do it." He turned Ezra and stared, waiting for him to look up, which finally happened. "You go tell her while you can."

Ezra gave the faintest nod and lowered his head again, unable to look at any of them as he shuffled back, stumbling but not falling. Lifting his feet to climb the stairs seemed to be more effort than he could handle, and they all watched to make sure he made it to the door. When he got there he straightened up, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath before stepping in.

"What the hell was that about?" Vin kept his voice low. He knew he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Mostly about coming to terms with who you are and then having it all fall apart." Chris picked up the hammer and handed it to Vin. "Finish that for him, will you?"

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Ezra didn't move from the side of the bed other than to rinse out cooling cloths, and clean up when she was ill. Jeanie slept restlessly, opening her eyes only a few times, and smiling weakly each time she saw him there. It was dusk when she seemed to truly wake up and Ezra dared to have a moment of hope.

"Well Miss Preston. You appear a bit more alert than you have been for the day. Might that mean you are feeling better?"

"Do you think it would be possible, under the present circumstances, for you to call me Jeanie?"

Ezra's throat constricted. He wasn't certain he could call her anything when he heard how feeble she sounded. He did his best to keep his face from reflecting his fears.

"I question the propriety of such an action, but I welcome the opportunity – Jeanie."

"Thank you, Ezra. Might I ask two more favours?"

"I am certain I would not deny you the moon and stars at this point."

"Nothing so fancy. I would like to speak to Mr. Larabee - privately."

That was the last thing he would have guessed, but he stood quickly to summon Chris from the front. He stepped out as Larabee stepped in, shrugging slightly. Determined not to listen he moved away from the door. That was the first time he noticed Vin sitting on the porch. He stepped out to join him.

"We finished demolishing the well Ezra. Ain't much, but it was all we could think to do for you right now."

"The gesture is appreciated. I watched her drink from it yesterday. If I had known…"

"You couldn't Ezra. Don't blame yourself on this. Sometimes things just happen that you can't do anything about." He didn't get an answer. "Buck is damming up the creek to keep the waters from coming into town. Nature has a way of cleaning these things up over time." He was talking just to avoid the silence and stopped when the door opened.

"She'd like you back inside Ezra." Chris hadn't finished the sentence before Ezra was gone.

Vin looked up. "Can you share?"

"Wanted us to watch over him. Wanted to tell me he was a better man than we give him credit for. Think I'd already learned that the hard way."

"You gonna fill us in on what's been going on?"

"Maybe later. Right now, I don't feel much like talking about it."

Her eyes were closed when he walked back in, and he thought his own heart stopped for that moment until she opened them at the sound of his breathing. "You look terrible Ezra. You need to rest."

"My health is not of concern here."

"It concerns me. You have to promise you will take care of yourself."

"Have no fears my dear. That is a task at which I excel. I believe you said there were two favours you wanted?"

"Yes, but I fear your concerns about propriety might get in the way. Would you hold me Ezra? I have been alone almost all of my life. I don't want to be alone now."

Fighting back every emotion that was trying to overtake him, he moved the chair away from the bed. He lifted her gently into a seated position, and pushed the pillows aside, sliding into the empty spot. Carefully, he pulled her close to him, resting her head on his shoulder and replacing the blanket to drape over them both. He rocked softly, humming to her.

"What is the song?"

"A piece by Stephen Foster about a beautiful young woman with light brown hair. She was the answer to her suitor's dreams."

"How wonderful for both of them. Can you sing it for me?"

"That is not a skill at which I excel, but I do not appear to have the ability to deny you." He hesitated a moment, trying to recall the words and when he felt certain he began softly singing to her. She settled back, snugging her head into the crook of his neck, and humming along at first. She grew quiet quickly. By the time he had reached the last chorus, he no longer felt her breath on his skin. He sat rocking gently with her in his arms and watching the sunlight fade away.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

It was starting to get dark when Buck was finally riding into town. He hadn't been sure he'd make it in time to be able to find his way around and didn't take to the thought of trying to hunt down his friends by torch light. He was far too tired for any such activity. All he wanted was a chance to wash off the worst of the dirt and find a place he could pass out for the night after down a dozen or so drinks to get the image of the family he'd buried out of his head. Damming up the creek had been hard work as well. He'd figured Vin would be back to help him and was wondering what kind of excuse he was going to hear about that. Wasn't like the hunter to skip out on him, so there had to be a reason. He'd been trying not to worry too much about what it might be.

Spotting Vin sitting in front of a nearby home made him change direction. It was too quiet for him to call out. Didn't feel right to disturb that. He dismounted and came up from the side. The look on Vin's face change everything he was going to say.

"Son of a bitch! Which one of them got it?"

"Neither of them Buck. That's not the problem."

"If you're going to tell me I've got more graves to dig, I don't want to hear about it. I'm done with that for a while."

"Keep your voice down damn it." Vin looked back toward the house before continuing. "There is one more. Don't worry. I'll dig it. Just hope there's a box ready. Don't think Ezra is in any shape to hang around here too long."

Buck stared at the house for a moment, then back at Vin with total confusion on his face. "What the hell are you talking about? You just said he wasn't sick. And where is Chris?"

Closing his eyes, Vin leaned against the railing post and sighed deeply. "Best sit Buck. We're going to be here for a bit."

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"Ezra, come with me." Chris spoke gently as he walked closer to the bed. "There's nothing more you can do."

"She didn't want to be alone. I can't leave her."

"She wasn't alone. You gave her that. Nothing more important you could have done either." There was still no indication he intended to leave the bed. "Ezra, you need to come with me. We have to make some arrangements. Vin and I will help with that, but you have to come too."

He was at a loss for how to handle this. Yelling had always been his best bet for getting the gambler to do what he was told. Trying to get through to him any other way was far outside of his experience and expertise. The distant stare coming from the Ezra worried him and, to be honest, scared him a bit. There had to be a way to get him past this, but he didn't know it would be.

"Hey there Hoss." Buck's voice startled both of them. "Sorry to be so late getting to town." He walked to the bed, giving Chris a quick pat on back along on the way. He was glad to see his friend feeling better, but now wasn't the time to say so. "Vin let me know what's been going on. Damned sorry Ezra. She must have been something to get through to you like this. I'm guessing she deserves to be treated mighty special right about now – doesn't she?"

Ezra looked at him as if he was meeting a stranger. "Yes. The best."

Buck wasn't certain exactly whether he meant Jeanie was the best or deserved it. Probably both. "Well OK then. Why don't you let Chris and me make sure she gets it then? You can stay right here if you want to."

He moved forward to take her from Ezra's side, lifting the blanket. "No. She was chilled. Take the blanket."

Swallowing hard, Buck nodded. "Of course. Should have thought of that." He wrapped her gently and lifted her from Ezra's arms. He didn't resist, but his eyes never left her. Buck nodded at Chris to follow him, and they quietly left him alone.

"That the way you did things with me?" Chris asked when they were far enough away to speak.

"No. You were mostly pretty angry at first. Needed different words to talk to you about anything. Ezra's just in shock right now. The rest might come later, but for now he's to worn-out to put up much fight."

Vin stood when they stepped out. "Doc told me there's a coffin behind the livery we can use for her. Guess they had extras ready. I'll go with Buck. You stay with Ezra."

"I should be taking her." Ezra had followed without anyone noticing.

"You've done your share and more. Let us take care of her."

"No Mr. Tanner. I should…"

Vin stepped over and walked Ezra to a seat and settled him into it. "She meant something to you, which makes her important to us. We can take care of her properly. I promise." It took a moment, but Ezra slowly nodded, then turned slightly, not watching as Buck and Vin walked away. He looked up to see Chris watching him. "Come on Ezra. Let's find you some place to get some rest."

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Ezra brushed the soil from his knees as he slowly and reluctantly stood up. The flowers looked like far to small an expression of what he felt, but it was all he could offer. Chris and Doc stood several yards away from the grave Buck had dug at sunrise. It was still early, and no one else from the town was there. A few people knew what had happened, but Doc hadn't let word get out to everyone yet, knowing how Jeanie's death would affect them all when most were still too weak or distraught over their own families to deal with this news as well. Besides, he thought Ezra should have some private time before moving on his way.

The day was promising to be sunny and bright – signs of a change in fortune coming to Harlow's Peak. There had been only the one death yesterday, and now that the source was destroyed, there should be no further. As much as he tried to, Ezra found little comfort in that. He moved slowly toward the others, taking Chaucer's reins from Chris.

"Are you sure you feel up to riding home?"

"I should be asking that of you Mr. Larabee."

"Doc here says I'm good to go, but you look pretty done in. Another night of rest…"

"Is definitely called for, but I will sleep better in my own bed. If matters are in hand here, I would very much like to leave. No offense intended to yourself or the town."

Doc nodded. "None taken. Mr. Jackson has agreed to stay on for a few days to help get things back to normal. Or to a new kind of normal, I guess."

Chris mounted up. "We talked things over last night. Buck will be sticking around as well for a few days. Just in case you need a strong back for anything." Vin had headed home at first light, wanting to let Josiah and JD know what had happened. Ezra was going to need their support even if he wasn't willing to admit it. Or to accept it.

Ezra swung himself into the saddle. "Then there is no reason to delay our departure. Mr. Larabee, if you are ready."

Doc cleared his throat. "I know this isn't what you want to hear right now Ezra, but I'm going to say it anyway. I'm damned grateful you came through here the way you did. Jeanie was too. This outcome would have happened with or without you, but she got to have a few days with someone who cared about her and she didn't have to die alone. She died feeling loved, and I know that was a great comfort. I'm sorry for the hurt it is causing you, but I'm damned glad for her sake it happened this way. Hope some day you can find some kind of solace in knowing what it meant to her."

Ezra offered a suggestion of a smile as he bowed his head. "Having had the opportunity to know her is my solace at this point. To see beyond that is a goal I will strive for, for her sake. I believe my friends will do their utmost to ensure that I eventually come to make some sense of all of this."

Chris allowed himself a brief but genuine smile of his own at hearing the word friends. Doc watched them ride of in silence, wishing there was more he could have done, and knowing there wasn't. Time was the only thing that might help now. For Ezra and for his own community.

Nothing was said for the first hour of the ride. Ezra was too tired and drained, and Chris couldn't think of anything he could offer that would have been of any use. When Ezra reined Chaucer to a halt, Chris rode up beside him.

"You all right?"

"Mr. Jackson advised me to ensure you remained hydrated on the voyage. I believe you have yet to take even a sip from your canteen."

"He shouldn't have bothered you with that. Not something you need to trouble yourself with." Seeing Ezra had no intention of moving forward until the matter was addressed, Chris opened his canteen and drank. Satisfied, Ezra nudged Chaucer forward.

"He tell you to take care of yourself as well?"

"My flask is at hand should I determine I feel a thirst."

Chris didn't care for the sound of that. "Doubt that was the drinking he had in mind." Ezra glanced at him briefly, then gave a small shrug. Not feeling up to an argument, he reached for his canteen and matched Larabee's action of a moment before, and then resumed the ride. It was close to a half hour before Ezra spoke again.

"She was a remarkable young woman, with a unique and very special gift Mr. Larabee."

"That was my impression as well."

They rode for a moment before Ezra continued. "I never imagined the person existed who could not only find something worthwhile in me, but actually manage to bring it out."

"A good woman can have that affect on a man. I speak from experience."

That brought an unexpected grin to Ezra's face for a second or two. "Your wife was undoubtedly similarly gifted." His voice cracked slightly, and he struggled to bring himself back under control.

"You don't have to talk about this if you don't feel up to it."

Ezra continued as if nothing had been said. "The truly amazing aspect of all of this is I find I am not entirely unhappy with the some of the aspects of my nature that developed due to her inspiration. It is a feeling that I find to be somewhat disconcerting."

It was a challenge to keep his face neutral but Chris made the effort. "Now Ezra, that could be a sign of dangerous things to come for you. If you ain't careful, you might just end up being downright respectable."

"Heaven forbid. I said some aspects, not all."

"Well now we'll all just have to keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't turn into an upstanding citizen on us."

"Yes, it would be a shame to no longer fit in with my fellow firebrands."

There was no conversation to speak of for the rest of the ride home, until they were near the outskirts of town and Ezra once again stopped. "May I presume upon the nature of our somewhat tenuous relationship to ask you a personal question?"

Chris nodded.

"How long does it take until the ache of such a loss goes away?"

Chris flicked the reins to get Pony moving again. "Don't know Ezra. I'll let you know when it happens."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**The End**


End file.
